Orion
"Have to find Sully. Have to find Sully. Have to find Sully." The teen repeated frantically under his breath, glancing wildly at the structure he was in. How the hell did a temple like this hide away in the Indonesian mountainside? "Come on, come on, come on!" Nate pleaded, voice growing more and more ragged by the second "There has to be another way!" but the wide corridor he was in funneled down to a single point, an ornate doorway. The flickering torch Nate carried casted a orange glow on the stony entrance to of the passageway that opened up before him. Old columns had collapsed under their own weight, rotting wood beams loomed precariously overhead. The teen quickly looked over his shoulder, stalling was costing him precious seconds on the lead he had from the goons chasing him. The approaching din of footfalls was growing louder by the second. He had to move, now.
Nate ran, sneakers slapping loudly against the floor.
"The little bastard went that way!" A harsh voice echoed up from behind Nate, out of the corner of his eye he could see another cast of orange light bleeding upon the walls.
"Guns, the "great" equalizer." Sully gave a humorless laugh, handing Nate the 9mm pistol "It doesn't matter who's stronger or braver, kid, just whoever pulls the damn trigger first. So get rid of any of those noble ideas taking a fist to a gunfight."
The weight of the gun felt odd in his hand, for most of his life Nate either ran away from conflict or talked and charmed his way out of it. Even though the incident in Cartagena was now over a year ago, memories of being corned and an inch from his life on that rooftop began to surface. He felt a twinge of anxiety in his stomach, was Sully asking him to do something he couldn't all those months ago?
It didn't take long for Sully to sense Nate's discomfort. "Look, I'm not asking you to shoot someone. But you need to learn how to handle one of these." The older man sighed, and the took pistol back, placing it gently on the table. Nate hadn't even touched the safety. Each day the kid wanted to be more and more involved, it was easy to send Nate off to lift artifacts, maps, and small treasures. But there was a threshold that was rapidly approaching, it was just idiotic to have a partner in this business that couldn't defend themselves.
"Nate, you of all people should know that our line of work is dangerous." Sully looked back over at the kid. Nate nodded, trying his best to stand tall and hide the apprehension in his eyes.
"Let's try this again, okay?" Sully asked, handing the pistol over once again. Nate once again took it hesitantly. Who was he to force a 16 year of all people to learn how to use a gun? The kid would thank him later.
"Get Him!" The voices were much louder this time, Nate vaulted over another fallen column and ducked under a beam. The teen beelined straight towards the exit, instead of moving around the obstacles. Nate glanced over his shoulder to see how much space was between him and his pursuers.
Bad decision. A resounding bang ricocheted about the narrow corridor, and Nate immediately dove behind one of the columns for cover, heart racing. His ears rang, white noise making it painful to concentrate. Adrenaline was flooding his system, making his hands jittery as he reached for his holster. Nate was slowly becoming adjusted the weight of the shoulder holster, much like how he rarely noticed the ring around his neck, but right now it felt like lead. Every fibre of his being screamed to run, to get the hell out of this godforsaken temple, the mission to find Sully abandoned.
More gunshots. He couldn't tell if the men were moving closer, or if his ears were still recovering. The teen hugged his cover even tighter, but he grasped the gun and peeked over the column. His hands shook, being under pressure like this was a completely different animal than the shooting range. Nate pulled the trigger, even after firing with this gun before the recoil still surprised him, and slipped back under cover.
The fire was returned.
The teen glanced upward, bullets had struck the rotten beams above, dislocating them. Creaks and groans filled the hallway splinters begin to rain downwards the groans quickly escalated into a roar. Nate rolled out of the way, as wood and stone crashed from above. The hallway was blocked off giving Nate some temporary shelter. The teen gave a tenuous sigh of relief, trying to stand up. The sudden movement sent a sharp jolt of pain up his leg, and panic racing through his mind. His foot was trapped underneath the debris. Nate made hasty work removing the rubble, his foot didn't look broken and he could still wiggle his toes, but it sure as hell hurt. The teen stood up shakily, avoiding putting too much weight on the injured foot. He hobbled over to where his torch had rolled, leaning over to pick it up.
BANG.
Pain seared through his arm, Nate dropped the torch. With a hiss of pain the teen pressed his hand to the wound. Blood welled up between his fingers, Nate grit his teeth trying to keep the growing pain at bay. It was a graze, but that didn't make it any less painful.
"Since Victor's making himself scarce, you'll have to do." A deceivingly warm southern accent proclaimed, footsteps approaching like an executioner's march.
"Fool's gone soft, used to be the best in the business, has a midlife crisis and picks up some street trash from Columbia," Even though Nate couldn't see the backstabbing bastard, he can hear the man spit at the mention of him "and trusts it more than man he's worked with for the past 5 years."
"You can see, boy, why I might be angry?" more footsteps echoed around the corridor.
Nate's hand shakily traveled back down to his holster, fumbling to remove the gun. He didn't want to do this, he wasn't a killer. Nathan Drake wasn't a murder. This wasn't happening, Sully would be here any minute. Just like back in Cartagena. But what if he wasn't a small part of his mind, addled by searing pain and exhaustion, suggested. The man was reticent to take him on this job in the first place, maybe Sully had finally wised up to what a stupid decision he made a little over a year ago.
"And what's happened to him now?" A cold laugh cut through the stale air, Nate slowly raised the gun towards the approaching figure. "Gone, scrammed and scammed his way outta here. Leaving behind you to distract me. Gotta hand it to Victor, it near damn well wo-"
BANG.
The figure let out a gurgle and crumpled to the floor. Nate dropped the pistol to the ground, weapon clattering loudly against the floor, breath coming out in ragged gasps. Eyes not leaving the unmoving body before him, the teen slumped towards the floor as his legs gave out.
"Kid?"
"Nate!" The voice bellowed this time, raw and laced with concern.
"Over h-here."
Nate vaguely registered hands clasping him on the shoulders, fingers gently inspecting the bullet wound, arms securely lifting him off the ground. Just the warmth and comfort of a living breathing person, not like the one which collapsed before him for what seemed like an eternity ago.
Author's Note: I lied, have another update. Have a rather lengthy and darker update, featuring an unnamed random villain. Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter.
